


Let It Snow

by paperstorm



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Queer Character of Color, Canon Queer Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift Exchange, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, POV Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Post-Canon, Romance, Snow, Snowball Fight, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28204671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: They've spent most of their lives, when it's all added up, on the Mediterranean. Joe is very accustomed to warm air and humid breezes and the beat of the sun on his shoulders. It’s precisely because of this, he thinks, that he is utterly fascinated by snow. And it’s also precisely because of this, he knows, that Nicky utterly despises the cold.So he’s surprised, when Nicky comes to him in early December with a determined – if not just a little bit prickly – smile on his face and tells Joe, “I am taking you to Banff.”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 35
Kudos: 190
Collections: The Old Guard Gift Exchange 2020





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vixy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vixy/gifts).



> My Secret Santa gift to vixy/spacewitchqueen to whom I have never spoken but hope will enjoy this little bit of wintery fluff! <3

There are few corners of the world they have yet to explore, in over 900 years living on this earth. Joe has seen the vast Sahara, the tropical warmth of Vietnam, the barren and cold of Siberia, the beauty and danger of the Amazon. He’s spent most of his life, though, when it’s all added up, on the Mediterranean. He grew up on it, as did Nicky, and for the first few centuries it seemed, at least to them, that the entire world must center around it. He’s very accustomed to warm air and humid breezes and the beat of the sun on his shoulders. To sweating on still summer evenings and cooling off in pleasant water.  
  
It’s precisely because of this, he thinks, that he is utterly fascinated by snow. And it’s also precisely because of this, he knows, that Nicky utterly _despises_ the cold.  
  
So he’s surprised, when Nicky comes to him in early December with a determined – if not just a little bit prickly – smile on his face and tells Joe, “I am taking you to Banff.”  
  
Joe raises surprised eyebrows at him, looking up from his coffee and the piece of sketching paper he’d been absent-mindedly dragging a pencil over in undefined passes. “In … Canada?” he asks, just to make sure he’s got it right. He thinks he knows where Nicky means. He thinks it’s a small, touristy ski town in the mountains, filled with fudge shops and panoramic views and ski slopes and lots and _lots_ of snow. Which is why it makes no sense that Nicky said it, and Joe must have heard him wrong.  
  
But Nicky just nods shortly. “It’s supposed to be beautiful, this time of year. In a winter wonderland sort of way.”  
  
“You hate the cold,” Joe says plainly.  
  
Nicky huffs, rolling his eyes a little and then walking over to plop himself down in Joe’s lap. Joe’s arms go automatically around his waist, holding handfuls of Nicky’s soft, worn t-shirt as Nicky’s hands cup his cheeks and he gazes lovingly – exasperatedly – into Joe’s eyes.  
  
Joe could stare in wonder at his love’s face for the rest of time. His tempting lips, his kissable cheeks. His clear, magical eyes, currently with long strands of silky chestnut hair falling into them because it’s been months since he’s cut it.  
  
“But you don’t,” Nicky says to him. “You love snow, and there will only be snow around here if we live to see the next ice age.”  
  
“We could give it our best shot,” Joe jokes, and Nicky huffs at him again, but his eyes glitter in fondness.  
  
“Or, you could say _yes_ before I change my mind and take us to Arizona instead.”  
  
“Yes,” Joe says immediately. He does enjoy cacti and javelinas. But he likes snow a whole lot more.  
  
It’s not the first time they’ve been in snow-covered mountains, but it’s the first time they’ve been in these specific snow-covered mountains. The town is quaint, with colorful wooden buildings and gift shops and cheerful people. It reminds Joe of Switzerland, from the last time Nicky had put aside his hatred of the cold because he’d wanted to take Joe somewhere beautiful. That was decades ago but Joe still remembers it clearly, and fondly. Nicky had complained the entire time, and wrapped himself up in so many sweaters and scarves that it looked like he had doubled in size overnight and it was an entire process of disassembling him in the evening to get at his skin under all that bulk.  
  
Their rental property is at the end of a long road through thick thatches of trees, part of a resort but a free-standing cabin just for them, privately nestled into the forest. Joe’s sure his eyes are comically wide as he climbs out of the SUV Nicky had rented at the airport and takes it all in. The cabin is two-storey, with a dramatically sloped roof, large windows, and a pleasing red door. It’s constructed of round, polished logs, made to look old and rustic even though Joe’s sure it isn’t. Surrounded by snow-laden cedars and the jagged peak of a mountain in the distance overtop of them, it looks like a holiday post-card or a picture from a tourism magazine of the most beautiful places to stay. On the balcony above is a wooden bench big enough for two, facing in the direction that the sun will set, and Joe loses time for a few moments as he imagines curling up on it with Nicky and mugs of hot chocolate and watching the sky turn pink and orange as the night sets in around them.  
  
“There’s a hot tub, out back,” Nicky says, raising a flirty eyebrow at Joe from across the red hood of the vehicle when Joe looks over.  
  
“Oh, is there?” Joe hums. “You really thought of everything, huh?”  
  
“A big fireplace, too,” Nicky continues. “I was thinking of myself, more than you, to be honest. Have to have at least a few options for thawing me out at the end of the day after you’ve dragged me through a blizzard.”  
  
Joe squints up at the sky, smirking as a smattering of gentle, elegant snowflakes drift down around them like the quietest ballet. “Ah yes, this is quite the storm,” he jokes. “How will we ever survive it?”  
  
Nicky mutters the old Italian equivalent of _fuck you_ and Joe laughs loudly, the sound of it echoing in the empty space around them. Grumpy Nicky is one of his favorite Nicky’s (although the list of his favorite Nicky’s is long and likely endless).  
  
“Really, though,” Nicky asks, sincerity in his voice and a hopeful look in his beautiful eyes. “You like it?”  
  
Frowning at even Nicky’s momentary hesitance, Joe shuts the car door and walks around it so he can take his husband’s waist in his hands and pull him in for a kiss that tastes like fresh mountain air. “Are you crazy?” he murmurs, brushing their noses together. “I love it. It’s perfect, and you’re perfect.”  
  
“Mm.” Nicky’s arms slide slowly around Joe’s shoulders, the fingers of one hand threading into his hair and staying there. “Okay. Good.”  
  
Inside, the floor is rough timber and the fireplace is towering and made of flat blueish stones. The views from every window are worthy of stopping and staring. Joe wants nothing more as they carry their bags inside in a flurry of snowflakes than to grab Nicky and pull him down onto the large, plush sofa and cuddle the heck out of him until Nicky is pink-cheeked and full of bashful smiles, so that’s exactly what he does.  
  
In the morning, Joe returns languidly to consciousness with weak December sunlight falling across his face through the skylight. He’s warm, and more comfortable on the luxuriously soft mattress than he can remember being in a long time, and Nicky’s hair is tickling his nose. Nicky’s curled into him, head half on the pillow and half on Joe’s shoulder, an arm draped heavily over his middle.  
  
Joe stretches, trying to move his stagnant muscles but also not jostle the bed so much that Nicky wakes, but Nicky does anyway. He always does. He’s the annoying morning person out of the two of them; Joe is the one who could, left to his own devices like he unfortunately rarely is, sleep happily until noon and then drag himself out of bed for some food only to lie back down and take a nap. Nicky is up with the sun, unless Joe grumbles about it and drags him back in to snuggle.  
  
Nicky makes a quiet, sleepy noise and shifts, nuzzling into Joe. “Buongiorno,” he whispers.  
  
“I think it’s been a long time since I’ve slept that well,” Joe tells him, tightening his arms around Nicky so he can hold him just a little bit closer while Nicky rubs his face against Joe’s beard like a cat.  
  
“I’m glad to hear it.”  
  
“Two orgasms right before bed probably helped,” Joe jokes, just to hear Nicky chuckle in that rich, low way of his, which he does instantly, rumbling against Joe’s chest.  
  
He hums again, sounding pleased and content as he muses, “couldn’t have hurt, I suppose.”  
  
Joe takes Nicky’s warm cheek in his hand and angles his head up so he can press a long kiss into Nicky’s lips. “Hi,” he whispers into the kiss.  
  
“Hello, my love,” Nicky answers. “What should we do today?”  
  
“Would you hate me if I made you try skiing?”  
  
Nicky chuckles again. He tucks his face back into Joe’s neck, safe and familiar. “I could never hate you. I might complain about it, though, especially if it’s difficult.”  
  
“Maybe I just really want to kiss you on top of a mountain, and this is a good excuse.”  
  
“You don’t need an excuse to kiss me. You can kiss me anywhere you’d like.”  
  
“Anywhere?” Joe asks playfully.  
  
“I meant in any _location_ ,” Nicky grins as Joe rolls them over, Nicky on his back and Joe fitting on top of him, pressing him into the mattress. “But yes, anywhere on me is acceptable as well.”  
  
Joe pretends to think about it and then places his lips on the tip of Nicky’s nose.  
  
It’s well into mid-morning before Joe finally agrees to let them get out of bed. Nicky pulls him into the ample shower stall and kisses him under the warm spray. He is, Joe figures, just trying to prolong the inevitable and keep them inside where it’s cozy for as long as he can. Joe calls him on it, and Nicky just shrugs and grins, and lets Joe help him wiggle into way more protective outdoor clothing than is necessary for the genuinely mild temperature before they venture out into the snow.  
  
It’s stopped falling since the night before but the breeze is minimal so everything around them has been sugar-coated. Tree branches and roofs are painted white, and the entire world seems to sparkle in the sunshine. Joe drives them up the road to a clubhouse at the base of one of the many slopes, where they rent some skis and poles and helmets and then lug them to the nearest easy run.  
  
Getting onto a chairlift seems suddenly a lot more dangerous than Joe would have previously thought but they both manage it without too much trouble, and the frosted world below them is captivating. Joe tries to take pictures of it in his mind so he can draw it later – or maybe paint it, if he can get his hands on some supplies. With the right kind of silver glitter he could bring the scene to life.  
  
The run they choose is the easiest, the one little kids learn to ski on, and even still Joe falls several times as they attempt to navigate down it with sticks fastened to their feet. It doesn’t hurt, because the snow is soft and powdery, so it just makes him laugh as he pops back up and brushes himself off and tries again. Nicky, annoyingly, is a natural, and never falls once. He helps Joe up with a sympathetic smile a few times, and Joe grins at him and gives him permission to laugh, so Nicky does.  
  
If he were someone else, Joe would be covered in bruises by the time they call it quits for the afternoon. Because he’s him, they’ve all healed already by the time they make their way back toward the clubhouse. Nicky buys them hot chocolate and they sit in comfortable leather chairs next to a massive roaring fire, soaking in the atmosphere and the din of noise as parents traipse in and out with their snowsuit-clad children and groups of teenagers laugh a little louder than they need to, reveling in the taste of freedom.  
  
When Joe notices Nicky still shivering, he sets his paper cup down on the coffee table and nods down toward his own lap, and Nicky gets instantly up like he’d been waiting all this time for permission and plops himself down on Joe’s thighs. Joe chuckles and hugs him, the bulk of their coats making it impossible to get as close as he’d like but still nice to have Nicky back in his arms, even if he shivers himself when Nicky presses his cold nose into Joe’s neck.  
  
Across the room, a pair of older teenage girls are looking at them and whispering, with dreamy smiles on their faces like they think Nicky and Joe are the cutest thing they’ve ever seen. Joe heartily agrees.  
  
He was right, the day before, about the sunset. Fluffy clouds roll in and the heavens above them turn to cotton candy, bathing them in luscious pink light. Nicky has wrapped himself in two blankets from the couch in the living room so that he doesn’t have to wear his coat as they cuddle on the balcony, and Joe rubs the side of his arm and kisses his temple, trying to will his body heat to seep into his husband but he only has so much of it.  
  
“Still cold?” he asks.  
  
“I am going to be cold every minute until we leave,” Nicky says, a smile apparent on his face even though Joe can’t see it. “It’s alright. I will be used to it, and it’s more than worth it to see you smile like you did today.”  
  
“Did I?”  
  
“Yes. Much bigger and brighter than you have in what’s felt like a long while.”  
  
Joe frowns. He kisses Nicky’s hair in silent apology. It’s been months since Kozak and it still burns like acid or hot coals in his chest whenever he thinks of it. They’ve worked through it together, and then been better, and then backslid, and then been better again, but he isn’t unaware that the ground they’ve landed on isn’t quite as steady as it was before everything fell apart. Out loud, because he worries a kiss isn’t enough, he says, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be sorry.” Nicky lifts his head, and the pink clouds above reflect in his shining, clear eyes. “I would be so sad if I thought you were angry with yourself for needing time to heal. I need time, too. Take all you want, I’m here no matter what.”  
  
“I know you are.” Joe kisses his mouth, then, melting inside as Nicky deepens it with a tease of his tongue along Joe’s lower lip and then the warm slide of it as Joe parts them to let him in. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you so much more than I could ever tell you. If I spoke every language that’s ever existed and we lived for ten thousand more years, it wouldn’t be nearly enough for me to say just how much. You make my every waking moment better just by being next to me.”  
  
Joe chuckles thickly and swallows over the tightness of emotion that rises in his throat. “You trying to make me cry?” he jokes, jostling Nicky playfully.  
  
“No.” Nicky smiles, brighter than all the stars in the sky. His hand cups Joe’s face, thumb rubbing gently underneath his eyes. “Maybe a little. It is justified, though, I think. You bring tears to my eyes with your beautiful words all the time.”  
  
“You deserve it.”  
  
“As do you.”  
  
Joe breathes with him, tangled up together with Nicky’s blankets, and then kisses him again. It’s more insistent this time, blooming into the promise of more, and Joe tugs Nicky to his feet and walks with him back through the sliding glass door and into the bedroom. The warm air envelops them, rising to the loft from the fire on the main floor, cozy enough that Nicky lets Joe slide the blankets from around his shoulders and peel his shirt off so Joe can kiss his bare shoulder.  
  
“I’ll warm you up,” he teases, pressing kisses to Nicky’s neck and cheeks and wrapping his arms around Nicky’s waist, moving in close.  
  
“Yes, please.” Nicky’s fingers tangle in his hair and he lifts Joe’s head to slide their mouths together again, practiced and familiar but that doesn’t lessen the swoop of excitement in Joe’s gut as Nicky’s tongue slides back into his mouth. They kiss, as they always do, with the familiarity of ancient lovers but the glow of brand new ones. Comfortable and exhilarating all at once.  
  
He nudges Nicky back towards the mattress to sit, taking advantage of the break in their kiss to pull off his own shirt and drop it to the ground. Nicky licks over his shiny bottom lip as he looks up at Joe, heat and desire and love in his darkened eyes. His hands find Joe’s hips, curling around them and pulling him in closer so his lips can slide warm and wet just above Joe’s bellybutton.  
  
“Bello,” Nicky murmurs into his skin, breath hot and skating over Joe. _Beautiful_.  
  
“You are,” Joe returns, a little shaky as his fingers brush long strands of hair off Nicky’s forehead.  
  
Nicky blinks up at him and smiles. “We are,” he counters, and Joe can’t disagree with that.  
  
He lightly pushes Nicky back, crawling over him and lowering his hips to roll them against Nicky’s, feeling how they want each other. It never dulls, the thrill he gets when he can feel Nicky wanting him like this. It never stops making him feel like the luckiest man who’s ever lived. Nicky kisses him slowly and so thoroughly Joe’s head spins, lost in the splendor of it all.  
  
“Thank you,” Joe whispers to him, “for this. For bringing us here. Even though you hate the cold.”  
  
“I do hate the cold,” Nicky agrees, “but I love being with you anywhere, and I’m warm right now.”  
  
The next afternoon, Nicky is standing on the back porch, humming as he grills steaks on the shiny silver barbeque, when Joe squats down to scoop up a handful of snow, packs it into a tight ball, and throws it at him. It hits the top of Nicky’s head and explodes, sending snow down the back of his neck and over his shoulders. Nicky jumps and makes a sound of surprise, bringing his hand around to feel his hair, and then turning to glare at Joe over his shoulder.  
  
“I’m making your dinner!” he cries indignantly, but behind the scowl, his eyes are smiling.  
  
Joe raises his eyebrows and shrugs exaggeratedly. “I guess maybe you should teach me a lesson.”  
  
Nicky continues to glare for the space of about four heartbeats and then his face breaks into a full smile.  
  
Joe shouts as Nicky chases after him, dodging around tree trunks and hiding behind them as Nicky pelts him with snowballs, managing to avoid them until he weaves the wrong way and gets hit with one square in the face. The instant cold takes his breath away, and a few yards away Nicky doubles over in laughter.  
  
Joe growls and wipes the melting snow from his eyelids, taking advantage of Nicky’s momentary distraction to lunge at him and tackle him to the ground.  
  
Nicky swears at him in at least three languages and Joe shuts him up with a kiss, wet from the snow still on his face. Nicky kisses back, and then shoves a handful of snow up the back of Joe’s shirt.  
  
“Shit,” he hisses, tensing and then giggling when Nicky does.  
  
“You started it,” Nicky says.  
  
Joe props himself up on one elbow to look down at his husband, flushed and breathless, so gorgeous with red lips and bright eyes. He puts another kiss on Nicky’s lips, a softer one, quiet amongst the sea of trees and the blanket of snow. Nicky’s fingers in his hair feel like being anchored, like he’s securely fastened to the place he wants to be most in the world, and not even the strongest wind could throw him off.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> Come talk to me [on tumblr](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/) if you want!


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